Seize the Day
by Drowned-in-Blood
Summary: Moe x Mr. Smithers: Death fic. Takes place five years after Flaming Mo's... Whatever happened to Smithers and Moe after that day...


Disclaimer: I do not own the Simpsons or 'Seize the Day' by Avenged Sevenfold.

Pairing: Moe x Mr. Smithers

A/N: I don't much write fanfics anymore unless I'm inspired... Flaming Moe's got me going once again.

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Seize the Day: One-Shot

_'Seize the day or die regretting the time you lost; it's empty and cold without you here...'_

Five years had passed since that Election Day. Moe had failed to win over the hearts of the gays in the Springfield community, but his heart had been stolen once he'd given that kiss to Waylon Smithers. Oh how it had changed the man! Moe had wanted nothing more than to chase down Smithers and tell him how he felt, but he just was too afraid to go back against what he'd lied about.

"I...I kissed a man and I really liked it... It's the only thing that gets me off anymore!" He grumbled to himself as he began to clean up his bar. Moe hadn't seen Smithers in his bar since the day he renovated it. It just seemed so lifeless with just Lenny, Carl, and Homer. He loved the gay boys that came through, and not just for their money. They gave a shit about the bar and its upkeep. "I even miss Grizzly Shawn..." He admitted, despite the fact that he'd only had sexual feelings for Smithers.

Grizzly Shawn was one of his best customers during his bar theme- Flaming Mo's. He'd be there every night and try to get him to go somewhere and even tried to pursue him after he'd returned it to just 'Moe's'. But he rejected him as gently as he could, Shawn accepted it, but noted a certain change in the barkeep.

The bell rang as the ever familiar gay man walked up to the bar and demanded his usual- Jack and Coke. "Whatsamatta Moe?" Shawn asked, as his drink was prepared. "I know somethin's bugging you. Some broad break your heart?" His lips formed a sincere frown as Moe shook his head and set the drink down in front of him. "Then what is it."

"Ever since Election Day... needless to say, I haven't been the same man. I don't look at chick porn anymore- hell I don't even look at porn no mores." Moe sighed softly, "I just can't even take into consideration anyone other than him." Shawn's eyes widened up a bit as he looked to Moe.

Shawn quirked a brow, "What happened to you that day? Who's been cloudin' up your thoughts?" The barkeep took a rag and wiped out a wine glass.

"Well, once you guys left, I went and kissed Waylon..." Shawn slammed the glass with a force so hard it shattered. He seemed incredibly upset by the fact and then recomposed himself. "Shawn, don't go breakin' my stuffs now!" He then made another drink for his regular before going on. "My minds been all fuzzy since den." Another sigh escaped those lips before his hand went through his mess of greasy gray hair.

"Maybe you should talk to him about it. I'm sure he wouldn't say no. Moe- I think you got some serious feelings for Smithers." A large hand played in that seemingly thick five o' clock shadow. "He's kinda fallen out of our clique, but I'm sure he still works for the power plant, he's got some sort of fetish for old men... at least Mr. Burns."

"You're right Grizzly Shawn! I'm going to go up to that Power Plant and I'm going to talk to Waylon!" Moe slammed his fist on the counter. "Come on, I gotta get this place closed up before Homer shows up." The gay man chuckled and nodded before exiting.

Moe didn't take too long to get the place locked up and make the drive to the Nuclear Plant. A very displeased Monty Burns however, greeted him with a grin frown.

"You're here to see Mr. Smithers you say?" Mr. Burns stared daggers at Moe. "I'm afraid he's no longer employed for me, well in the least, cannot work at this time. Might not ever be able to work again, I'm afraid." This came as a shock to Moe.

"What happened to Waylon?" Moe didn't like the tone of Mr. Burns' voice, but his only response was a small slip of paper. Written upon it was Mr. Smithers' location. "Springfield Hospital... Intensive Care Unit... Why's he in ICU?"

"His body has grown weaker over the years of exposure to radioactivity and the Human Immunodefficiany Virus set in quickly, evolving to more deadly things..." Mr. Burns began to explain. "He's dying... Now- if you'll excuse me, I must go tend to my hounds." He got up and left Moe to stand there, dumbfounded by the news he'd just been given.

"HIV... but.. but how?" Moe whispered to himself before heading straight for his car once again to begin the drive to the hospital.

After his arrival, he'd argued with the nurse's for a good fifteen minutes before they let him back on words that he was Smithers' brother. His eyes becoming heavy lidded before he entered the room. "Waylon... s'that you?" He asked softly, looking at the pale man laying in the bed.

"Moe? Is that you? What're you doing here?" Waylon coughed, unable to see the male standing right at the foot of his bed. His glasses lay on the table beside him and Moe picked them up and slid them onto that pretty little face.

"It's me Waylon... I wanted to talk to you about something, but... I don't understand how... something like this could have on set so quickly..." Moe frowned as Waylon began his explanation.

"My immune system was shot anyway due to all of the radiation, one would think I'd be the exact opposite..." A sigh emitted from those weak lips. "After our kiss that day, I gave up on love- both your heart and Mr. Burns and went on a spree of having sex with random gay prostitutes... Caught this... and needless to say- I don't have much time left."

Moe's heart sunk to his stomach, "I... didn't want you to give up Waylon. I've been thinkin so much since den." The barkeep took a wet rag and placed it over Smithers' forehead. "My feelins have changed... I've come to accept who and what I want... but I guess it's too late for dat now, I just want to be here wit you."

A laugh emitted from Waylon's lips, "You don't get it still, do you Moe? I want to die alone. It's only fitting. I lived alone- I should die alone." Moe shook his head and brought himself to kiss Smither's gently.

"You won't die alone Waylon... even if you don't want my loves, I'm givin it to ya's anyways." Moe tried to smile, but found it so very difficult to do so. Smithers however, mustered up on of his own as Moe found himself moving in closer to kiss him. "I'm not a dream... I'm going to be by your side... Like I shoulda been the day I figured this all out."

"I'm happy to know that Moe... thank you." He whispered, his hand raising to touch Moe's cheek. The numerous wires draped down his thin arms as their lips met once again for the first time in five years. It lit a strong fire in Moe's stomach, but the sounds of flat lining heart monitors quickly ended his kiss as Doctors and Nurse's shoved him to the side.

After at least ten attempts to revive his beloved Smithers, he was pronounced dead. Moe fell to his knees and broke into tears. He'd been an idiot for five freaking years and had lost Smithers permanently now... There was only one thing to do...

Mr. Burns was in charge of handling Waylon's affairs and gave a great deal to Moe. Most were items of sentimental value, but the most precious was a photograph of them from the re-grand-opening of his bar as 'Flaming Mo's.'

Within a weeks time, the bar had regone through the same renovations with assistance from Mr. Burns due to his appreciation and respect for Waylon and charitable donations from the gay community- Flaming Mo's was back.

Moe didn't change his look or try to impress- he just continued to wear his black apron and simply slacks with a gray button down top. He didn't need to love again, not in this life time.

The barkeep gave the enlarged photograph one final look before lighting the candles beneath it. "Waylon Smithers... I love you... just... wish I'd saids it sooner..." His hand slowly swept down to the base of the portrait. "I regret... waiting... and I lost all that time... all them chances, I'm sorry..." A single tear droplet rolled down his cheek as he turned on the music he'd selected for the gay communities memorial for Waylon Smithers.

_'A melody, a memory- in just one picture...'_

_-End-_


End file.
